


cet'jaon te vhekad

by eve_without_adam



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, BDSM, Collars, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, Leashes, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Post-Season/Series 02, Praise Kink, Public Sex, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:47:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29179731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eve_without_adam/pseuds/eve_without_adam
Summary: Tatooine was a strange place.A new king didn't change much about that.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Boba Fett
Comments: 10
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by SWModdy's "Sweet Princess". It's really good, so if you haven't already read it, you definitely should.

Tatooine was a strange place. Always had been and always would be. It was a haven for those who didn't want to be found. If you came here, your past didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was if you survived the desert.

Even a new ruler didn't change much about that.

The people of Tatooine didn't care much about politics outside of their own planet. The fall of the empire was a minor event in the people's lives. Overshadowed immensely by the murder of Jabba the Hutt. But even that didn't have any major impact on most people, as his spot as Tatooine's ruler was filled almost immediately.

In the five years of Bib Fortuna's rule, not much changed for the average citizens. This may have had less to do with Fortuna's skills rather than the system Jabba had established during his life. So for around five years he lived comfortable in his former master's palace, sat on his throne and thoroughly enjoyed himself. And so did those who profited from his general incompetence.

But then came Boba Fett. He was the change Tatooine needed. After decades of living under the Hutt Empire most of the people craved change. And change things he did. 

Where Jabba was kept safe by a combination of guards and control over everyone who could be a threat to him, Fett ruled through violence. Either inflicted by himself or one of his bodyguards. 

Fennec Shand was his right hand. The assassin was feared as much as the king himself. Rumors had it that she owed a debt to Fett, but nobody knew what exactly made them choose to work together. After Fett had taken over the planet, it was her who had been recruiting mercenaries and former slaves into Fett's loyal guard, and simultaneously ridding the galaxy of those refusing to accept his rule.

Then there was the Mandalorian. The reasons why he worked for Fett were even more of a mystery than Shand's. Rumors about his identity were running wild among the court. If he wasn't out on a hunt, he was usually situated behind the throne. He was covered from head to toe in shining beskar. Hidden eyes watching out for any kind of threat. Even though his mere presence was enough to prevent anyone from doing anything that could be considered treason. He didn't speak much. And if he did, it was quiet things whispered into Fett's ear. A conversation like that was almost always followed by some poor idiot being executed by either Shand or Fett himself. So needless to say, most of the court was relieved every time he left to go on a hunt.

Though their presence was terrifying for anyone who came to the court, it did make sense for Fett to have proper security around. When he first took the throne from Fortuna he managed to make himself a number of enemies. Both supporters of the former Hutt - now Fett - Cartell and those who profited from Fortuna's leadership. In the first weeks after he had taken over, executions had been a near daily event. Now it seemed most had learned their lesson. 

Fett ruled with an iron fist. Any kind of treason was punished harshly. But that didn't mean he was not a fair ruler. Those who showed their loyalty to him were rewarded appropriately. Under his leadership, the moisture farms flourished, which gained him the support of most farmers.

Especially his decision to abolish slavery on Tatooine, which caused some of the slavers to turn against him, turned out to benefit him more than it harmed his reputation. After being granted their freedom, many of the former slaves flocked to the palace to join his army. Many of them wanting to repay their liberator and protect their newly gained freedom. Their loyalty was so unwavering that even the hypocrisy of their new king didn't seem to bother most of them.

The new anti-slavery laws were heavily enforced and anyone who broke them was punished mercilessly. Well, anyone except for Boba Fett.

The new king of Tatooine was usually found lounging on his throne with one hand resting on the side of his throne and the other holding a leash. A leash made of shining beskar that connected to a collar of the same material. Between the king's feet, on a soft-looking pillow, kneeled his slave. Like the Mandalorian, he didn't have a name. Or if he did, nobody knew. The only name Fett called him by was 'Princess'. Which obviously couldn't be his real name.

Dressed in outfits of fine silk or sheer that were often combined with matching jewelry, together with soft brown hair that curled at the nape of his neck and dark eyes that seemed to be permanently sad, Princess was a pretty addition to Fett's court.

The first time he had appeared in public had sparked a quiet outrage among certain groups of people. Some of the former slave-owners didn't want to accept that they had to give up their property while Fett got to keep his, whereas some of the former slaves felt betrayed at the fact that the one who had granted them freedom would still keep another person as his own. 

That day the atmosphere in the palace had been strained. But even with the Mandalorian absent on a hunt, no one had dared to act on their thoughts. A stern look of Shand, and an even sterner one from Fett, managed to keep everyone in line. 

It didn't take long for people to get used to the slave. Most of his time he spent kneeling on his pillow or sitting in Fett's lap. He didn't wander around much and if he got up from his place at Fett's feet, he always hurried to get back.

Now that people had gotten comfortable with his near constant presence, the speculations started. Some suggesting that Princess had been a present from somebody who wanted something from Fett and that was why he hadn't been there from the beginning when Fett took over. Others believed he was a warrior, maybe even mandalorian, who had been defeated by Fett and forced into submission. This at least, would be an explanation for the number of scars that covered his muscled body. The last theory was also supported by the fact that none of the freed slaves recognized him, therefor making it unlikely that he had been owned by someone on Tatooine before falling into Fett's possession. 

Even though everybody was dying to know more about who Princess really was, nobody dared to ask. Nor did anyone dare to make any assumptions where Fett, Shand or, maker forbid, the Mandalorian could hear. Those who did found themselves unable to utter another word fairly soon.

Whoever he was or had been before Fett put his claim on him, it didn't seem to matter anymore. Not when he kneeled next to the throne or sat in the king's lap. Or in these rare instances where Fett would get bored with his court, so his slave would disappear underneath his skirt to help him relax, while the court continued what they were doing, trying very hard not to look too closely.

Yes, Tatooine was a strange place and even a new king couldn't change much about that.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a normal day in the palace. Fett was lounging on his throne with Fennec perched on the side. Behind him, wearing his full armor with a spear strapped to his back, stood the Mandalorian. Apparently he had returned from whatever hunt he had been on for the last weeks. 

Everything would have looked completely normal, had it not been for the pillow still placed in front of the throne, but for some reason unoccupied. As soon as the absence of a certain slave was noted, speculations began to spread. Discreetly of course, everybody hoping to avoid the faceless warrior's attention. But curiosity was still a strong opponent to beat and so by noon everyone in court had a different theory where the king's favorite toy was and why he wasn't in his usual spot.

And those theories ranged from "he doesn't want to come out today" to "Fett got bored with him so he disposed of him". Some suggested the sudden reappearance of the Mandalorian had something to do with it. But nobody dared to speculate further, at least not while they were in the same room as the warrior. 

The king himself didn't seem too bothered by the, albeit quiet, commotion going on around him. If he took note of the whispers and looks thrown his way he didn't show it. Instead he listened to the various farmers who needed tools to keep their generators from breaking down or the merchants who wanted to move their business closer to the palace.

Behind his buy'ce Boba was grinning like a tooka. It always amused him how they thought he wouldn't notice the whispers or those obvious glances at his feet, where he knew Din's pillow sat. He wondered if the other man found it as funny as he did. Fennec certainly did. The assassin was currently pretending to drink from a bottle of spotchka, in an attempt to hide her smile. She had been telling him about her favorite rumor about Princess' whereabouts. Something about him rewarding the bounty hunter by giving him his slave as payment. 

He would love to hear Din's opinion on that theory. No doubt the other had overheard some rumors himself. And Boba couldn't wait to hear about them. It probably shouldn't be as funny to him as it was, but he thoroughly enjoyed listening to the stories the people in his court would come up with. Just imagining the look on their faces, should they ever find out the truth about his "slave", was priceless.

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled him back into the present. The sight of the man standing in front of his throne was enough to make his smile disappear. 

In the center of the room, dressed in expensive looking robes, with his arms crossed and an annoyed look on his face, stood the merchant who had been talking for the last 20 minutes. Boba had stopped listening after the first sentences, his better-than-you attitude was not something he looked forward to dealing with. Even now, when anyone else would back down under the weight of his gaze, the man's posture still exuded arrogance.

Boba really didn't feel like dealing with that right now. Not when he had been dealing with the same boring requests since morning. The sooner this day was over, the better. He was already looking forward to an evening with Din.

"You can set up shop near the palace. At the end of every month you will give thirty percent of your earnings to the place. You can pay in credits or your merchandise."  
Expecting this request to be dealt with, Boba mentally prepared himself for the next one.

"That is too much! You can't expect me to pay more than twenty!"

So not only arrogant, but also greedy. Boba let out a quiet sigh. He could feel a headache building up behind his eyes. He hated dealing with an idiot who thought that just because he was more generous than Jabba or Fortuna, they could try to haggle about the taxes they had to pay. It was as if they forgot who he was or somehow thought he couldn't touch them.

This one certainly seemed to think so. He was looking up at Boba, the expression in his eyes daring him to act. So Boba did. The move of his hand was all the order Din needed.

The di'kut didn't have a chance to react. In a matter of seconds Din had managed to grab the man and dragged his thrashing body outside, the man spouting profanities and insults along the way.

"Who is next?" He hoped the last requests wouldn't take long.

The chatter that had started to rise up quieted down as the next person stepped forward to present a request of their own.

Another two seemingly endless speeches had Boba wishing for the Sarlacc to take revenge and swallow him again. But he also started to wonder where Din was. The hunter had yet to return and that started to worry him. As he was about to tell Fennec to go and find out what was taking the other so long, the doors of the throne room opened. A low murmur began filling the room.

The blue-skinned Twi'lek that was currently asking for the necessary equipment so she could increase the water her farm produced, stopped mid-sentence and turned around to see what caused all this commotion.

Boba watched with delight as Din, now dressed in a somewhat see-through gown, made his way over to the throne. Once he was close enough, Boba reached out to pull the other man into his lap.

"You seem stressed.", the other's voice was low enough that only he could hear it, "Let me help you with that, buir’ika."

Din's fingers were already working their way down and Boba was only too aware of the way his cock began to harden in anticipation.

"You'll get what you need. And now get out. I'm done with court for today."

The Twi'lek bowed in thanks and hurried out with the rest of the court. Fennec was the last to leave, closing the doors behind her with a teasing "Have fun".

Boba turned his attention back to Din who had already sunk to his knees and was pressing small kisses to Boba's dick.

Boba let out an appreciative hum when Din opened his mouth to take him inside. The headache that had been building up started to lessen the more he relaxed. Reaching down, his ungloved hand took hold of the soft curls, guiding Din's head at a slow pace. Leaning back on his throne he looked down at the beautiful sight before him.

Maybe the Sarlacc could wait another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a translations:  
> buy'ce - helmet  
> di'kut - idiot  
> buir'ika - daddy (coming from buir, which means parent)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tags have been updated. This is just a precaution, but the chapter turned out a little darker than I had planned, so please make sure to check them before reading.

Boba was in a good mood. It was a slow day, filled only with people asking for minor request. Adding to that was the weather. The days on Tattooine were close to unbearably hot, while the nights were freezing cold. But today the sky was filled with clouds, which caused the temperatures to drop to a comfortable degree, still warm but not nearly as hot as it would normally be and many inhabitants were hoping for a little rain later in the day.

Though the weather was unusually nice, the palace was still packed with people. Many of them coming there to ask for something from their king, but just as many came out of pure curiosity. The latter mostly came for one of two reasons. They either wanted to take a look at Fett's slave or his mandalorian bodyguard. Be it foolishness or bravery, the mystery surrounding both was something few could refuse to see for themselves.

While wearing his armor, the looks didn’t bother Din as much, if he looked back long enough they stopped. But on the days where he sat in Boba's lap or knelt in front of his throne, he sometimes found himself hiding away from their eyes. Boba knew how he felt of course, but he could only do so much. It wouldn't do for the entire court to be blinded after all, even though Boba had already suggested such.

Which was why he was now sitting in a little alcove behind the throne, surrounded by pillows and hidden away from view, but still close enough for Boba to reach him easily. 

He had discovered the little hideout on accident, but still remembered how he had stumbled across the small space. The memory burned into his mind permanently.

It had been a day like any other, the entire morning he had spent close to the throne and Boba. He'd still had to get used to showing his face at all back then and over the course of the day he had grown more and more restless. Something about being watched constantly had made him feel uncomfortable. 

Feeling their eyes on him had made his skin itch, like their gazes were burning little holes into him. The hushed conversations and looks thrown his way had made him want to vomit. The whispering voices had gotten louder until every other noise had been drowned out. A little voice in his head had risen up, telling him that _they knew!_

_They knew and now he could never put his helmet back on! He had betrayed his creed, his clan! Their sacrifices had been for nothing! He was a disgrace to his armor, was unworthy of his title! He didn't even deserve the child! It was a good thing he wasn't_ _with him anymore! One less thing he could ruin! It was only a matter of time until Boba noticed how pathetic he was!_

He hadn't noticed the hand on his neck, warm and steady. Hadn't noticed the conversations quieting down and the court clearing out. Hadn't heard the soft words spoken into his ear, voice laced with worry.   
  
The only thing he had felt had been the tears, that had left burning tracks on his numb cheeks. The soft silk of his sleeves had suddenly felt coarse, rubbing his arms raw and causing blood to run beneath his fingertips. The soaked material had weighed down heavily onto his chest. He had tried to push it off, but hadn’t been able to move his hands. They had been stuck in the wide sleeves, so he had started running.

He had stumbled down the dais, ignoring the voice calling for him to stop, to calm down, to breathe. But he couldn't have done that with all the eyes on him. So he had hidden himself away. 

He had crawled inside the small hole in the wall and he had stayed there for what felt like an eternity. Curled up in the dark he had finally been able to breathe again, the vice around his ribs had loosened with every shaky intake of air. 

The silence had been a relief, after the deafening noise of his own mind. When his breathing had calmed down enough he'd had to blink multiple times to fully open his eyes, the lashes glued together. 

The first thing he had noticed had been Boba. The other man had been kneeling in front of him, hands reaching out but not touching Din. Worry had been written all over his face. It had taken Din a moment to long to realize that he was worried about him. The realization that Boba cared enough to worry about him had been almost enough to drown out the pain that had come together with full consciousness. 

His arms had been lined with scratches and dotted with crescent shaped imprints. Before he could have thought too much about their origins Boba's ungloved hand had taken hold of his cramped fingers. His lips had made contact with the red tinted tips. Then he had moved upwards, soft lips trailing over aching arms and wet cheeks. Strong arms had lifted Din’s body out of the dark and had carried him towards their shared bedroom. 

Later that night, after Boba had taken his time bandaging Din's arms and cleaning his face, with a cautiousness one would treat a glass doll with, Din had fallen asleep curled up in strong arms with his head resting on a solid chest.

They hadn't talked about what had happened. Boba had tried to, but Din had ignored his questions until the other had stopped asking. But Boba had made sure that Din knew he could always talk to him. 

The little alcove had been stocked with pillow and blankets to make Din feel as comfortable as possible. From then on every time Din had felt like he couldn't stand the attention anymore, he had let Boba know, the other had unclasped the leash he always held tight in his fist and then Din had disappeared for as long as he needed. It was either after he had calmed down and the voice had grown quiet again, or until Boba appeared to let him know they were alone, that he emerged from his sanctuary.

The only people who knew about this spot were him, Boba and Fennec. Which was why he didn't think anything of it, when he heard hurried footsteps approaching. In hindsight he should have picked up on that, Boba usually walked slowly to let Din know he was coming and Fennec moved silently, appearing suddenly and without warning.

The steps came to an abrupt halt and Din felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Mentally preparing himself for the worst he opened his eyes.

Blocking the entrance of the alcove, and therefore the only exit, stood a man. His purple eyes leering down at Din's smaller form.

"Be a good little princess and stay quiet.", spoke a deep voice, while a gloved hand began reaching for his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Any kind of feedback or criticism is greatly appreciated.  
> I do not have a beta reader, so if you find any mistakes please tell me.


End file.
